Ring of Royalty
by Hihippy
Summary: 29th April 2011. The wedding of HRH Prince William and Catherine Middleton. England muses back on past weddings and even his own...


England never quite knew what to think of Weddings, especially Royalty.

Back in the day they were a grand thing, a culmination of scandals and politics and all sorts of gory business at times, and certain monarchs wedded people as though there was no tomorrow, before throwing them out or lopping their heads off as soon as he got bored. Admittedly, he would rather not mention that again.

The Queen's wedding was only two years after the war, so things were a bit stretched. He could remember that day quite clearly: 20th November, 1947. London was still in ruins, the country was in debt to many countries after the war and they were struggling to hold themselves together with ration cards and recycling, aids and moral support.

But they still had time to fit a wedding in there.

Arthur had, if he recalled, attended that Wedding on crutches. He wasn't in the best shape, and it was clear he represented the rather dishevelled state of the country. Some of the officials wished to clear the male off to the side so that he wasn't seen much, or that he didn't remind the Royals of what this wedding was trying it's best to ignore.

He sat right behind the Royal family. He loved weddings. He'd remember the point where good old Bertie leaned back and murmured to the Briton –

"I'm glad you're sat here. I feel if you were shuffled out of the way it wouldn't give a reason for this wedding to be such a positive effort."

He wouldn't say it, but England smiled throughout all the way through.

He remembered Queen Vic's wedding; how glad she was just to be rid of her mother. Thinking of how she came to be in her later years, it was amusing to remember her on her wedding night, within the arms of Prince Albert. They were like two teenagers.

Back then, Weddings always came off as a more formal business. The Royal family obviously have to marry in order to keep the lineage properly intact – so it became more of a business until about a hundred or so years back. This still does happen in some places, and it was commonplace back then, he knew. This generally was how relations and alliances between other nations were created and made. There is an old, old part of the Englishman that likes to think that that was the reason that so much disastrous war broke out, ever since _someone_ decided that it was a good idea to rebel and imagine the prospect of freedom without a ruling Monarch.

Then he remembers how when how marriages were done that way, England was barely ever out of war.

He remembers back to Prince Charles and Diana's wedding, of it being a rather cool, sunny day. The whole population was in happiness. Street Parties were held everywhere. People were much more patriotic and it was much more a celebration. Diana wasn't a member of royal lineage. She looked beautiful, sitting daintily from that carriage, waving at the mass of crowds lining the streets of London.

Arthur had been to a lot of Weddings.

He'd watched normal citizens get married – they were the best. There was a better sort of sincerity, an almost bigger… celebration, in a way. Two people were going to get married for the rest of their lives purely because they loved each other, and barely, barely ever due to a mess of politics and benefits. More people were happy. There was less controversy. Overall, more people had just a general good time.

His Kings would sometimes go to war to marry – or not. Wars were started over marriages.

Politics and Marriage didn't ever really mix, he supposed.

England had all but been married once.

1500's.

The Marriage of Queen Elizabeth I. Secret, under the eyes of the rest of the Royal Household, sans the Archbishop and one Lady. The sun had sunk itself slowly under the horizon as though it had not been given permission to view the marriage. The stars squinted in effort to see through the stained windows of the cathedral, but clouds eventually shifted in and swamped the intruding lights out.

They were married by candlelight. A ring was slipped on each of their fingers, a ring that would not budge from the owner even after death, and another that would not be removed from the finger for good until 1997, after the death of a certain Princess and the ending of an age. After that, he'd come to the conclusion that marriages weren't really worth it any more. The business of marriage had been lost through the ages, but so had the meaning.

He didn't put it back on, even when one of the boys (William, he thinks) tugged him on the shirt and asked Mr England why he hadn't his ring any more – was it because he was divorcing too?

The only thing he could manage in reply was a soft pat on the head, before he moved on. Those days were over. England had been told time and time again that he hung too much on the past. Sometimes, though, he felt that the past was too nostalgic to hold onto.

England felt he had truly moved on from his 'romantic' phase, watching the boys grow up, almost feeling like spitting at Charles' second wedding (Diana had been _amazing_, why would go do such a thing to his own sons...) and even watched the boys fall in love. He'd seen this happen time and time again as it was, but since he'd made a proposition to 'move on', he'd watched it all with mere indifference rather than curiousity.

Well, that's what he liked to think.

It came to fruition the last November when William came out with the engagement. While the media went frenzy (he could tell, considering how much his curiousity grew) but at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to want to do anything with it.

It was only after one evening when he was sat outside a local restaurant with France after some sort of conference, and had got a pint or two down him, did he blab out his bitterness at the Frenchman. France just sat there, taking a thoughtful moment to look out at the stars squinting down at them, did he look over to the other and sigh.

"I do not know about you, _Angleterre_" he paused to say "but after we have lived so long in our lives and seen so much, you understand that love is love, no matter in what form. It can either break you into thousands of pieces or you can be happy for the rest of your life. I find, unfortunately, that we have to deal with the former when it does happen to us. As for our civilians, well.. I suppose it is only through them that we can find the hope that that silly little term, _amour_, is more than how history merely treats it."

It made England think.

He didn't say anything more about the matter until the Wedding Day itself. He quietly accepted his invitation, and had taken his seat for the day's event. He clasped his hands together, and watched the service with a smile.

He pretended he didn't cry. Westminister Abbey is _very_ old, so there were bound to be some specks of dust about the place anyway.

England doesn't join them on the balcony, but he stands with them as they're about to go through, opening the door for the Royals to lead through. It was right as Prince William and Kate were about to go through, the Briton leaning against one of the pillars and staring down at his hand.

Right before one of the Royal companions were about to give them the signal, William had looked over and spotted Arthur, before giving a quick word to Kate. He walked over and stood before him silently for a moment.

"... I don't want to tell you what to do, because I don't know the complete tale, but..." He paused, glancing down at his own ring, then back to Kate.

"... Sometimes I think it's good to hold onto memories, because it helps you to move on... that I do know."

Another figure approached, murmuring 'Your Highness' with an urgent tone. The Prince looked at the other, making a motion, before he looked back up to the Blonde haired man with a smile. He reached over and patted the clenched hand, lightly.

"If there is something you would like to do for me today, England, just think about that."

He turned around, and hurried back to his newly-wed, quickly giving a kiss to her left hand before taking her arm and leading her out.

England watched them go, before unfurling hand and slowly looking down.

A moment later, he slid the ring back onto his finger. He closed his eyes and brought the ring to his lips, curling his fingers lightly.

Yeah. He really never knew what to make of these weddings, though he could agree on something, at least.

They were always rather _spectacular_.

* * *

><p><em>Just one or two notes:<em>

_-Queen Elizabeth I never married or had children. It was often claimed she was 'married to her country'. When she died, there was a ring that would not come off, and they had to end up sewing her finger off to remove it. It was the ring that people liked to speculate that was the ring she 'married' by._

_-At the very least, HRH Prince William proposed to Catherine Middleton with Diana's ring. Not sure if this applies to the actual wedding ring, but the symbolism is still there, darnit._

_-Yeah, I wrote William. I honestly don't want to cause offence (if that's possible in this) but yeah. All respect due, my royal friend. Congrats on that marriage. 3  
><em>


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